Dear Diary,

If I had to rate today on a happiness scale of 1 to 10, I’d award
it a 9, held confidently overhead like someone wrangled into judging a
contest they’re only semi knowledgeable about and are scoring subjectively,
rather than using a complex technical merit-based system. Today “feels” like a
9. To be fair, happiness is a subjective emotion to begin with, but so is pain,
and that doesn’t stop medical professionals from asking you to rate it, so
yeah, I’m vibing a 9 today. Why not a 10, you ask? Well, I DID have to see my
osteopath this morning and have him put me back together after having a cold.
Who knew a simple cold could cause so much pain?! Hypermobile people, that’s
who! (If you’re curious, I awarded my pain a 5 at the doctor’s office) Wait.
I don’t get it. If you were in so much pain that you sought professional help,
how can today be a 9? Ah. I see I’ll have to explain. Have you ever
experienced a renewed appreciation for health after feeling horrible, vowing you’ll
never take it for granted ever again, but you know that once you acclimate that
you WILL take it for granted because healthy is the new normal? I’m in the
sweet after sickness pocket of bliss, where I’m no longer in pain, and
tomorrow’s pain hasn’t hit yet. The heavens have opened, the sun is shining,
choirs of angels are singing, and little baby cherubs are floating by, Monty
Python style. Little baby cherubs deserve no less than a 9 on a scale of
happiness, despite (or rather because of) the Monty Python kitsch.